Chapter 244

Chapter 244

Agnes’s warning seemed to have silenced Louis. For several seconds, he remained speechless, his brows furrowed, glowering in her direction.

Unfortunately, those perpetually weak, blind eyes held little to no intimidating power. Agnes smirked contemptuously, utterly convinced that without her protection, he would meet a miserable end. Humming an eerie tune, she crossed her arms and exited the room.

She arrived abruptly and departed just as decisively. Once certain she was truly gone, Louis immediately shed his submissive and aggrieved expression, scoffed in annoyance, and snapped impatiently, "Aren't you coming out?"

"?"

Uncertain if he was addressing her, but his familiar tone suggested otherwise, Eve tentatively stepped forward. Yet, before she could fully emerge from behind the wall where she had been hiding, a colossal butterfly materialized in the consultation room out of thin air, taking her place.

The silvery-blue butterfly, as large as a person, gently fluttered its wings twice. A shimmering, galaxy-like glow surrounded it as it circled twice in the air before calmly settling on Louis's shoulder.

...It looked exactly like the Luna Butterfly.

Even after being separated from her spiritual state for so long, no one in this universe would fail to recognize their own spiritual essence. The moment Eve saw the butterfly, she froze, her face revealing unmistakable shock. But as the initial surprise subsided, she noticed that this suddenly appearing butterfly only resembled the Luna Butterfly on one side; the other wing was smaller, and its patterns were much simpler. The black-and-white eye-like patterns on its wings gave the illusion of blinking when it fluttered.

Most importantly, this beautiful creature cast a shadow on the ground—faint, but enough to prove it was a living being, not a spiritual state dependent on its host.

She breathed a sigh of relief, then realized she had inadvertently stepped out from the wall.

"...Whatever, he can't see me anyway."

Eve glanced down at her bare feet and the blue-and-white striped hospital gown she wore—both highly conspicuous. If Louis could "see," he wouldn't have remained so calm. Taking advantage of his blindness, she swaggered over to Agnes's former seat, crossed her legs, propped her chin on her hand, and openly watched to see what Louis was truly up to.

The butterfly had settled on Louis's shoulder, its wings elegantly folded back. Under the daylight streaming through the window, the asymmetrical wings possessed a strangely beautiful quality. It seemed to be communicating with Louis in some special way, though Eve could only hear Louis's side of the conversation.

"Agnes shows no respect for your king, such an ill-mannered individual," he said, sniffing disdainfully before adding, "And now she's deliberately left me here. I won't let her have her way."

The butterfly's antennae twitched, as if conveying a warning.

But Louis just replied irritably, "Don't you think I know that? But what choice do I have? I can't just sit here and wait for death. Besides, if something is given to me, why shouldn't I use it?"

The butterfly then left his shoulder and alighted on the now-cleared table, leaving the alchemist alone in his swivel chair, fuming. After a while, Louis seemed to snap out of it, his attention turning to the burlap sack discarded on the floor. He cursed under his breath, ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, and finally grumbled, "Fine, let's get to work."

Eve followed his gaze to the long sack on the floor. Before arriving here, she had no idea it contained the body of an A-grade individual.

But now, she was more concerned about Agnes's whereabouts. If she had been unclear about her situation earlier, after observing for so long, even a fool would understand what was happening—the unexplained blood mist had transported her here to witness events that occurred before her team entered the hospital.

Recalling the skeletal monsters roaming the hospital, Eve estimated that at the time her team arrived, Agnes had not yet returned to the People's Hospital. Instead, Louis was left to manage the hunting on his own.

It was hard to say which situation was more critical. The thought of Agnes now wreaking havoc somewhere, gathering twenty A-grade individuals within a week, pointed only to the capital planet or military headquarters—both scenarios were equally alarming. Yet, based on the conversation between Agnes and Louis, it seemed there was something on this blue planet that even Agnes feared. After all the twists and turns, the most dangerous place remained right where they were.

...Caught between a rock and a hard place, with enemies on all sides, the most troublesome part was that even though Eve had gained this information, she still hadn't found a way to escape this world.

So, when Louis left the room, she didn't hesitate to follow him.

Louis's consultation room was on the fourth floor. After stepping out, Eve quickly scouted the area. This was the cosmetology department on the fourth floor. She vaguely remembered passing the introduction board in the lobby on the first floor, which highlighted the hospital's significant investment in cosmetology. Following Louis as he dragged the large burlap sack to the operating room at the end of the hall, Eve finally understood why he had chosen the cosmetology department as his temporary base.

After all, this was where facial procedures were performed, so the tools were much more refined. A shelf near the door was filled with jars of various sizes, containing a yellowish-green liquid that looked familiar. Louis untied the sack and, with some effort, dragged out the man's body. Using a hand crank, he hoisted the body onto a bed covered with a disposable polyethylene sheet. Unaware that he was being watched by curious eyes, Louis began examining the still-fresh corpse.

The man was tall, about 1.8 meters, with a rugged beard and one eye. His left arm was replaced by a mechanical drill. The distinctive features jogged Eve's memory—this was a somewhat notorious space pirate, once affiliated with Fei Niao. After Fei Niao was wiped out by the Imperial Military and Zuo Qirong himself was publicly executed, this pirate had been frightened into returning to his home base, Black Star, only daring to cause trouble in the fringe systems.

She didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. Agnes had actually targeted pirates in the fringe regions—it seemed her socialization progress was indeed remarkable.

The consequences of Louis's usual lack of physical exertion soon became apparent. After struggling to move the burly man onto the operating table, he was already covered in a fine layer of sweat.

He stripped the corpse of its clothing, turned on the blood extraction machine with a snap, and roughly inserted the large needle into the most prominent blood vessels—the subclavian, jugular, and major arteries supplying various parts of the body. The rubber tubing expanded and contracted as if beans were rolling inside. When the corpse's skin turned an unnatural pale hue, Louis deemed it sufficient and turned off the machine.

A human body consists of many parts—internal organs, limbs, over three hundred bones, tens of thousands of blood vessels, and nerve cells. But only a few hold spiritual significance.

Mechanical arms delivered the necessary tools from all directions. An aluminum tray held surgical instruments of various shapes and sizes—from large amputation saws to medium-sized hooks and drills for bone carving, down to delicate scalpels. Louis glanced at them, then expertly picked up the tools he needed. The filthy body was the largest useless mass. After removing the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, he pushed the remains off the operating table.

The butterfly, which had been perched on the shadowless lamp, was startled by the thud of the heavy body hitting the floor. It fluttered its wings and flew to a shelf filled with jars. Louis ignored it, closing his eyes as his hands, usually accustomed to luxury, now clad in thin gloves, felt for the head and facial features. Despite his disgust, he worked quickly and precisely, severing the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

The five viscera correspond to the five elements; the six senses correspond to the six roots.

These were the so-called spiritual parts, also the most commonly used offerings in alchemy.

Thanks to the prior blood extraction, the operating room wasn't overwhelmed by the smell of blood. Still, Eve covered most of her face with her hand, feeling nauseated. The mutilated corpse was now unrecognizable. After placing the harvested organs into jars filled with the yellowish-green liquid, Louis arranged the jars on a small trolley and hurriedly pushed it away.

Before leaving, he snapped his fingers. Crimson patterns glowed on the ceramic-white floor, and flames erupted out of nowhere, consuming the discarded corpse. Eve didn't follow him. Instead, she leaned against the wall farthest from the operating table, avoiding looking at the body that had been callously discarded after serving its purpose. Even if the man had been a ruthless pirate in life, the brutal dissection left her feeling physically ill.

But the most important reason was that the butterfly had not followed Louis out. It remained quietly perched on a corner of the shelf.

She counted silently in her mind. Starting from one, when she reached ten, an asymmetrical shadow swiftly glided across the adjacent wall, light as a fleeting glimpse, and landed on Eve's shoulder without any weight.

Its fuzzy antennae gently brushed against Eve's earlobe. As she turned her head, a faint voice spoke in her mind.

"Would you like to talk to me?" the butterfly asked politely.

"Are you talking to me?" Eve examined the uninvited butterfly, surprised that it could perceive her presence. She wondered what role this butterfly, which had appeared in the past, played in the collaboration between Agnes and Louis. There were too many questions, but they all condensed into one: "—Who are you?"

"......"

The butterfly didn't answer immediately. Instead, it fluttered its wings, the side facing Eve showing the smaller wing. The broad, fan-like scales formed black-and-white eye patterns, observing her emotionlessly.

After a prolonged standoff between Eve and the butterfly, the latter finally relented. It folded its wings again, its voice as fine as a child's: "I am not of the Insectoid race. I am on your side."

"Do you know what Louis is doing now?"

"Storing food."

"Are you and he partners?" Eve glanced toward the door and said neutrally, "He doesn't seem to be on our side. So why are you helping him?"

"I'm not helping him. What you see may not be the truth."

"You ask too many questions."

The butterfly flapped its wings, lifting off Eve's shoulder. It circled unsteadily in the air before adding, "Those who are too curious often meet unfortunate ends. You have one last question."

Alright, it seemed this inexplicable butterfly wasn't all-knowing. Eve had to set aside her questions about its relationship with the Luna Butterfly and focus on what she most needed to know: "Do you know what's beneath the hospital? Why do Agnes and Louis value it so much?"

"That..." The butterfly fell silent for a moment before replying, "I cannot answer that. Because in this land, that one's name and title are too supreme. Even casually mentioning it would disturb Him."

So sensitive?

Eve frowned. "Then should we escape?"

"Yes, if you can. However, if I were you, I would abandon the others and escape now."

The statement was chillingly pragmatic. Eve was about to respond when a series of thuds echoed from outside the door. Her expression shifted, and before she could reply, she stood up. The butterfly itself let out a soft "Huh?" and flew to the windowsill behind Eve.

A familiar-looking skeleton stumbled into the room from the hallway, heading straight for the shelf that had held many empty jars. Even though Louis had used quite a few, a considerable number remained.

The skeleton stretched out its bony arms, reaching into the pile of jars as if desperately searching for something. Eve felt a surge of curiosity and was about to step closer for a better look when she heard the butterfly's soft, mocking laugh—sharp and thin, almost like a villain's sneer. "He's going looking for that stone again."

Eve: "What stone?"

The enormous butterfly perched on the wall, like a beautiful tapestry—though not meant for decoration.

"The Philosopher's Stone—a sacred object said to resurrect the dead, regenerate decayed bones and flesh, and grant eternal life. But he’s using it all wrong, only remembering to rely on it to cling to life by his fingernails when he’s on the verge of death." The uncanny creature watched with its dark compound eyes, curiously observing the skeleton desperately searching for something, while whispering directly into Eve’s consciousness, "Tell me, if someone who should have died long ago is repeatedly dragged back, dancing on the razor's edge between life and death again and again—do you think that person can still be considered alive?"

It sounded like a commentary on Louis alone, but Eve sensed deeper implications in the butterfly’s words. She narrowed her eyes, watching as the butterfly nearby slowly spread its two scaly wings—one large and one small, one bright and one dark—mirroring each other in unearthly perfection.

And the next moment, the asymmetrical butterfly suddenly took flight, its body splitting into two, then four... until Eve lost count. Their size continuously shrank, their wings one half swirling like a galaxy, the other dead still like a void. They swarmed like a richly colored cloud, attacking the unsuspecting skeleton from behind. The miniature butterflies burrowed into its hollow skull, chest, abdomen, and limbs, settling motionless on the bones, wings drawn back, mouthparts poised—a posture primed for hunting.

From Eve’s perspective, the scene was eerily magnificent, as if elegant, dazzling butterfly flowers were sprouting from the skeleton’s bones. The white skeleton soon turned pitch black and decayed, collapsing into an unrecognizable pile of sludge. From within, the butterflies coalesced back into the original large butterfly, which eagerly retrieved a pigeon’s blood ruby necklace it had hidden atop the shelf and tossed it to Eve.

"Look at you, wide-eyed and clueless—you really don’t remember me, do you? How quickly you forget your debts, forgetting even who carried your soul grandly over the Divine Realm’s walls and the Astral Sea’s barriers. Hmph." The butterfly tapped Eve’s cheek with its slender antennae, its tone sharp and sarcastic. If it had a human form, it would surely have dug its fingers into the girl’s cheeks. "But none of that matters now. Care to make a bet with me? If you win, this Philosopher’s Stone is yours. If you lose..."

It deliberately drew out the words, teasing, but no one could truly resist the temptation of such a large Philosopher’s Stone—Eve was no exception. So even though she suspected this flying insect had ill intentions, she reached out, grasping the necklace adorned with the stone, and asked, "Then what?"

"I haven’t decided yet."

"......" The girl looked speechless. "Then what are we betting on?"

"Some people, after narrowly escaping death once or twice, grow arrogantly convinced they’re destiny’s darlings, untouched by fate. Little do they know, the God of Death Butterfly’s messenger never leaves their side. Louis is like that, and you won’t be an exception either."

The butterfly circled incessantly above Eve’s head like a shifting storm cloud or a weightless feather. As its thin, sharp voice spoke, an intricate and ornate alchemical contract materialized before Eve’s eyes.

Her gaze dropped to the contract, where the first party’s section was already filled with a florid, encoded signature: "God of Death Butterfly."

God of Death Butterfly? It sounded somewhat related to her Luna Butterfly.

It left her with no real choice. After a moment’s silence, Eve bit her finger and signed her name in the second party’s section of the alchemical contract. As the final stroke of the encoded character "Eve" settled, the contract took effect.

The terms of the bet were simple, summarized in just a few lines:

"Parties A and B hereby reach a friendly agreement: If Party B remains alive after three days, Party A shall erase the tracking mark on the Philosopher’s Stone and fully gift it to Party B. If Party B dies within three days, their soul shall belong to Party A until the terms of the wager are fulfilled, after which freedom shall be restored.

The bet takes effect upon contract formation and lasts exactly 72 hours. During this period, Party A shall not interfere with Party B in any way and shall respect all autonomous actions of Party B. Likewise, all outcomes during this period are solely Party B’s responsibility. The bet retains only formal significance."

"You’re as decisive as ever," the God of Death Butterfly said cheerfully. "Well then, I wish you a pleasant journey."

......Eve couldn’t shake the feeling that it sounded like it was cursing her to die quickly.